And the Award Goes to?
by Golden Boots
Summary: Willow and Cordy? No. Really? Surely not those two! Willow, maybe, but Cordy? Well, maybe if... This is a Willow/Cordy one-shot - probably! - set between Series 1 2. It's rated M for a reason. DISCLAIMER: I don't own the rights to the character or plots from Buffy - this story is written purely for fun and not profit. Don't forget to gimme some sugar in the form of a review! x


**And the Award Goes to…?**

THWACK!

She didn't know how it happened. She wasn't even sure _what_ just happened. All she knew was that it wasn't like her, Willow Rosenberg didn't do this kind of thing. She had never hit anyone in her life except in self-defence and now she had slapped Cordelia Chase across the face. _This isn't happening!_ were the words that screamed through her mind, utterly displacing the boiling anger that had been there only seconds before.

Cordy's head slewed round, a hand pressed to the offended cheek. Her shocked mouth hung open but her eyes were blazing. "What the hell did you just do?" she spat.

Aware of how much bigger than her the cheerleader was, Willow rocked back on her heels. "I'm not all that sure," she said in a high, weak voice. "I must've slapped you. I guess you called me a nobody one too many times."

Jaw jutting in justified rage, Cordy looked as if she were about to pick the slight redhead up and break her back across her knee. Instead, she whirled and grabbed the arm of a passing member of staff, her thick, dark ponytail flying out like a whip as she did so. "That nerd," she snapped querulously, "that _nobody_ just slapped me. She fucking _slapped_ me!"

It was Mrs Franklin, the math teacher. She looked down at Cordy with a disapproving expression. "She did what?" she said, a note of warning in her voice.

"She slapped me," Cordy repeated, censoring her response this time.

It didn't matter. Mrs Franklin had heard it right the first time. "Need I remind you, Miss Chase, that uttering expletives in school is considered worthy of disciplinary action no matter what the cause." With this last remark, she turned to transfix the quivering redhead with a venomous look.

She gulped.

"But I'm the injured party here!" yelped Cordy. She thrust her glowing left cheek at her. "This is not blusher. Does it look like "Hot Cherry" by L'Oreal to you?"

"No, Miss Chase," she smirked, "but you're definitely worth it."

Willow chuckled despite herself.

Mrs Franklin turned serious again. "Where are you two meant to be?"

"Phys. Ed." they chorused dully.

"Okay, I'll let Miss Litto know you won't be attending." She led them down the hall, Willow dragging her heels, Cordelia ripping the scrunchie from her ponytail so her long hair fell across her cheek and hid the embarrassment of the red handprint from her fellow pupils. They stopped outside a large door. "Principal Snyder is in a meeting right now. I expect you two to wait in his office until he gets back so he can deal with your situation appropriately. I trust you won't start cat fighting again."

"Oh, please," sneered Cordy. "As if I'd lower myself."

Willow just shook her head.

She ushered them inside and closed the door behind them.

There they stood, side by side, in silence, for ten whole minutes. They looked like a pair of statues: one a rendering of spite; the other, the epitome of misery. Willow had to admit it was not an uncommon experience for her to find herself in the Principal's Office due to the continuing exploits of the Scooby Gang but this was different. This was – mortifying. She felt guilty, ashamed and very close to tears. What was worse, she was sharing the experience with the person most likely to taunt her about it in the future. The primary humiliation would begin at any moment. What form would it take? The little redhead couldn't guess – the mind of someone like Cordelia Chase was a mystery to her.

When it did arrive, its form was unexpected and shocking.

"Oh," said Cordy casually, "and I think you ought to know I've heard the rumours about you."

Willow's brow furrowed. "What rumours – what do you mean?"

"You know." Cordy's head snaked forwards. "That you like the ladies. That you're a les-bi-an," she said, mouthing the last word.

Flushing hotly, Willow tried to defend herself. "Who said that?"

"Apparently, you did. You've fessed up to quite a few people, haven't you?"

"No." Willow swallowed hard. "I'm not gay – I'm confused – I don't know what I am."

Cordy snorted her contempt and began to wander around the room picking up various objects and setting them down again, instantaneously bored. She bent over Principal Synder's desk and began to leaf through his diary.

"I don't think you should be doing that, Cordelia."

"Why not?" said the brunette without even turning round to face her.

"Because it contains personal informa- " Her voice snapped off as she saw something she shouldn't have. Something peeking out from beneath a red tartan skirt. Cordy wasn't wearing any panties!

Willow quickly glanced away but it was no use – the cheerleader's nakedness hung before her eyes like the bright spot that stays after you've stared too long at a lamp. The bottom part of Cordy's ass, two semi-circles below the shadowy hem of her skirt; her toned but voluptuous thighs pressed together pinching an oval of bare pussy between them. God – did she even know she was going commando? How embarrassed would she be when she found out? _Not my problem!_ Willow decided and plastered a fake innocent grin on her face as she turned back, eyebrows raised and eyes wide, two doll-like spots of colour in her cheeks giving her away a little.

Cordy was now looking over her shoulder, her expression anything but innocent. Her lips curved in a knowing smile and her eyes were dark lasers. "What's the matter, Willow? See something you like?"

She stepped back and collided with a cabinet, making everything inside it rattle. This must be the revenge. The most socially powerful person she knew was trying to catch her out, make her _come_ out so she could present the fact to the entire student body as the ultimate proof of Willow's weirdness and make her the laughing stock. Again. That made her angry. "Whatever game it is you're playing, Cordelia, I'm not interested," she said with feeling.

Cordy did not respond in kind. "Playing," she mused softly. "I like playing." She began to spread her legs, maintaining her position lying on her front across the desk, revealing more pussy flesh millimetre by millimetre.

Willow whirled to face in the opposite direction, giving the world a trenchant mouth but there were tears in her liquid eyes.

Booted footsteps approached her. She became aware that the cheerleader was standing beside her right shoulder and looking at her. She ignored her.

"Look," said Cordy, "the truth is, I'm intrigued. I like to play and I haven't had a good playmate since - " she sighed melodramatically " – well, since Harmony."

Willow forgot to ignore her. "What? You and Harmony…?"

"Oh, yeah. It's amazing what fun you can get away with when you're doing math homework together or trying on each other's clothes. That's a particularly good excuse if you get caught naked together, by the way."

"So – what happened?"

Cordy shrugged dismissively. "She got squeamish, concerned someone might find out. I was understanding. I spanked her the last time we were together, though."

The redhead stared at her slack-jawed for a moment then her mouth contracted into a _moue_ of denial. "But you're not gay!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," mocked Cordy. "Did I forget to fill out my club membership form?" She began to advance on the smaller girl. "It's about time you realised that what people _say_ they get up to in the bedroom is different from what they actually _do_. I'm not gay, I'm Cordelia Chase, the most popular girl in the school and I do as I fucking please." She stopped mere inches from Willow. Her wide, compelling face filled the redhead's world, the fading slap mark now just adding to the high colour of her excitement. "Tell me, Miss Rosenberg – did you enjoy looking at my bare pussy?"

This was it, do or die. Fulfil the fantasy of a lifetime or become school leper. "Yes," she squeaked.

Cordy's teeth were an army of pearly warriors; her dancing eyes dark as the Styx. "Maybe I'll shave yours for you some day. Unless – it's already shaved?" She reached out and slipped her hand up Willow's knee-length skirt, fingers stroking across the soft bulges they found there.

The redhead squeaked again. Cordy was the first person ever to touch her there. "But Principal Snyder could walk in at any moment!" she worried.

Cordy put her head back and laughed. "I don't give a fuck." And with that, she planted her full lips on Willow's little mouth.

She nearly fell over, forgetting all that business about telling your muscles to keep you upright and breathing, stuff like that. She absorbed Cordy instead as the brunette ravished her mouth, tongue working like it was making a burrow, lips sucking on the untried flesh. Bewildered, it was all Willow could do to stand up to the deep caresses of her lips. Suddenly, Cordy was at her neck, running her mouth up and down, feasting on her just below her jawline. Cordy couldn't know it but she'd hit the jackpot there – Willow's neck was one of her most erogenous zones. The redhead put her head back and quivered, feeling like a broken flower offering itself up to the scorching power of the sun. As soon as Cordy's lips lifted away, however, Willow leapt upon _her_ neck, delighting in the softness of the skin, the firmness of the muscles beneath.

They stood entirely clasped in each other's arms, bodies in full contact. Cordy tipped her head back a little, a sly look returning. "Do you play with yourself?" she asked throatily.

"Erm…" Willow's eyes flicked here and there as if searching for the correct answer. In the pit of her being, her libido was telling her what the right answer was over and over. Her silly flesh just wasn't listening.

"It's okay if you don't – I can show you what to do."

"I – do – sometimes. Not often," she lied.

Cordy began to step forwards, forcing Willow to stumble backwards until her behind bumped up against something – the edge of Principal Snyder's desk. "Do you like to play with these?" She brought her right hand between them and slowly squeezed Willow's breasts one after the other.

She wanted to tell Cordy about her fantasy of coming while they were being sucked, about the time she'd rubbed ice cubes over her nipples and nearly cried at the sweetness of the sensation but all she could do was nod in reply. As if in compensation, she pulled off her top hastily and made to pull down her bra, too.

That was too fast for an experienced player like Cordy. To prevent the naïve girl from rushing things, she brought her hand back between them, running her fingers across the edges of Willow's plain, white A-cup bra. It made her smile – it was so different from her own frilly, brightly-coloured ensembles. So virginal. "Cute," she smiled as she leant in, placing her other hand on the desk, forcing Willow to bend backwards. As if just testing out some curious new dynamic, she pushed the redhead's bra straps off her shoulders.

Willow shrugged nervously. Her breasts were small and she was afraid Cordy would not find them sexy enough – or that she might even laugh at them. They had none of the magnificence of the cheerleader's chest which right now seemed to be thrusting itself towards her beneath the white Angora sweater, making Willow want to reach out and squeeze her breasts with both hands, push her face between them. Instead, she swallowed her nerves and reached behind herself to undo her bra, letting it fall to the desk – letting Cordy decide whether this skinny little body was worth the effort.

Two high, apple breasts stared up at the cheerleader. Their rosy nipples were fully erect and jutting out as if begging to be fondled, tortured. Cordy's hands moved fast and grasped them both, pinching those pleading nipples so hard it made Willow cry out and fling back her head. Cordy moved in even closer, one thigh moving in between Will's and jamming against her crotch. She pressed her still-clothed chest against the redhead's bare one, rubbing back and forth a little. "I love tits," she said. "Tits belong together." For a long minute, both girls stared down at this electric connection, watching the flesh squish and bulge from the contact, both sets of nipples growing harder so Cordy's were now visible as two tiny pyramids under her sweater. The brunette began to make noises for the first time, a series of tiny groans and sighs deep in her throat.

Freed up by the other girl's obvious delight, Willow moaned too, the soft tickle of the angora sending arrows of pleasure shooting down between her legs.

Cordy leant in and Willow – getting the hang of this now – immediately brought her mouth up to meet her. They not so much kissed as touched lips, their tongues lapping and sliding against each other, matching the delicious teasing that was going on in their breasts. Then, without a word, Cordy bent her head and took one of those proud nipples in her mouth, suckling hard, slowly and luxuriously.

Willow fell back on the desk, forcing Cordy to clamber up on top of her. A tower of files crashed to the floor. They were inconsequential. The redhead felt as if some golden thread of energy were being drawn on through the suction on her nipple. And it was so fucking erotic to look down and see Cordy's head bent to the task, her full lips clamped around the rosy peak, occasionally pulling her head back so the skin stretched. Further down, Willow noticed with some surprise that she was riding the cheerleader's thigh with abandon.

Cordy had also noticed. She looked up into Willow's face, letting the nipple rest for a moment against the flat of her tongue before she curled her lips into a devious grin. "Will – have you ever heard of 'scissor sisters'?" she asked.

"Er – maybe. Kinda"

The brunette's face showed a flicker of exasperation. "So – what do you think?" she said slowly, as if talking to an idiot, though at the same time she slipped her hand up Willow's skirt, hooked her fingers around the hem of her thick tights and panties, and worked them down her thighs. The panties were pale blue. With white flowers.

Willow kicked off her pumps. "I don't think it's something real lesbians do."

Cordy snorted and lifted Willow's right leg onto her own left hip, ripping the dangling underwear from her ankle as she did so and casting it to one side. "Who says?"

"You read about it everywhere," said Willow earnestly. "It's one of those moves girls who aren't really lesbians anyway do in pornos but it's all done for the men watching. Real lesbians don't get anything out of it."

Cordy's right knee landed next to her left hip. "Well, it's a good job I'm not a lesbian then, isn't it?"

Clinging to knowledge the way a drowning sailor clings to flotsam, Willow chimed again, "It's more of a visual thing, I think."

Cordy mimicked her serious face and tone. "It's more of a visual thing, is it? Okay – look." She grabbed the back of the prone girl's neck and tilted her head upwards at the same time as she brought her shaven pussy down to connect with Willow's, lifting her skirt at the front to afford a better view. Their clits touched, Cordy's stiffened nodule moving up and down, and in circles against Willow's growing button. The redhead gave a sharp gasp. Cordy just chuckled, clearly loving the sight of her clit moving with the pressure. Her pointed tongue ran across her top lip and she alternated between staring down between them at the precious place where they met to staring deep into Willow's eyes, drinking in her surprise and pleasure, yet still teasing, teasing, a cruel smile painted on her lips.

The feeling was startling for Willow. Every nerve in her body was held in stasis while she listened to the sweet feedback from her clit. She'd never even allowed herself to imagine this could happen, girls pressing their most sensitive, secret places together. It was like telepaths touching minds. She felt convinced her clit was growing centimetres by the second, that teasing, rubbery rub almost more stimulating than the wet and rapid passes her own fingers could give her.

Cordy's head fell onto her left shoulder for a moment or two as she enjoyed the torture for a final few seconds then she brought her hips down and mashed her pussy against Willow's. It slid up and down, pressing hard, their pussies making like the wet and open-mouthed kisses of young teenagers. Everything was being stimulated, even deep inside, as Willow began to clench with each of Cordy's thrusts. The redhead was ever-so-slightly terrified. The brunette sat astride her like a colossus, her strong thighs pinning her in place, the dynamic movement of her hips relentless. Tentatively, Willow reached for Cordy's hips only to have the dominant girl grasp her wrists and pull them into place where they could stroke and worship the powerful muscles that were generating this delicious brand of fucking. Gently, the slender redhead's pelvis began to move, too, rocking in time with Cordy's thrusts. A golden glow was growing in Willow's loins, a muscular energy reaching hard for something. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the motion, hardly believing what she was doing – thrusting like a teenage boy and loving it. A secret smile played on her lips.

"And exactly what're you thinking about, Miss Rosenberg?" asked Cordy archly.

Her voice slipped out high and staccato. "I'm – thinking we should – coin a new term."

Cordy raised an eyebrow.

"_Wet_-humping."

Delighted, the brunette turned on her wide, savage smile and began to circle her hips, pressing even harder as her substantial breasts jounced beneath her white sweater. "Urr, urr, urr," she grunted as she ground out three final, violent thrusts then dismounted Willow suddenly, wandering off to the other side of the room.

"Hey – what?" cried out the slip-of-a-girl, her hands naturally wandering down between her thighs to squeeze a few more drops of pleasure from her suddenly lonesome puss.

Cordy was rummaging through Principal Snyder's shelves. "Aha!" she cried, turning back to the desk with something large in her hand. It was Snyder's "Best Principal in Northern California" trophy. Made of Perspex, it was vaguely anthropomorphic and looked a lot like an Oscar. It was also thick and worryingly knobbly.

The young cheerleader gave Willow a mean grin. "Time for you to let go of that other little lesbian lie – that girls don't use dildos!" She ordered Willow over to the couch and had her sit on the edge with her feet up beside her and her pussy exposed. Willow gulped and obeyed. Holding her gaze and with a look in her brown eyes more evil than any demon Willow had ever encountered in Sunnydale, Cordy spread her frenemy's pussy with the finger and thumb of her left hand and began to push the head of the trophy inside her with the right.

"No, Cordy, wait!" cried Willow, her huge, startled eyes filling with tears. "I'm still a virgin."

"You're what?" Cordy's hand froze.

"I've never had anything inside me before."

"You mean, you're still intact?" She experimented, giving a little jab with the head of the trophy and Willow yelped piteously. Yet she continued to sit compliantly with her thighs apart, looking to the dominant girl for guidance. A tear escaped one eye, born not out of pain but out of fear Cordy was disappointed in her.

Cordy dropped the trophy and shuffled closer. One hand went into Willow's long auburn hair while the other was placed gently over her pussy. She looked into the innocent girl's face with a mixture of fascination and melancholy empathy. It got Willow wondering how long it was since the brunette had lost her virginity. Long enough, perhaps, for this reminder to seem exotic but not so distant she could no longer identify with it. Cordy moved in and placed her lips on Willow's, kissing her more tenderly than she had done before. She held back so she could feel every delicate movement of the virgin's instead of crushing it all away with the power of her own greedy kisses. Given room to manoeuvre now, Willow's tongue stole out and flicked across her lips; the delicate, fluttering movements so characteristic of an inexperienced girl.

Cordy began to stroke her pussy, her fingers sliding easily up and down in its discrete wetness. Tentatively, she pushed a finger inside, pushing upwards until she met the resistance of the girl's sweet hymen.

Willow whimpered delicately inside Cordy's mouth at each press of the finger, feeling something hot yet amorphous twinge inside. She clung to the bigger girl's shoulders, crushed against her, lost in her fragrant, dark hair.

Then Cordy was up and off her again, a wild look in her eye as she dragged the bewildered girl over to the Principal's desk. What was it with Cordy? She seemed all of a fever, anxious to see her lover in every conceivable position; antsy. Had it been such a very long time since she'd done this? Was she afraid she'd never have the chance to do it again? Deep down – was it what she liked best?

"Here, by the window. I want to see," said the dark-haired girl getting Willow into the same position on the edge of the desk as she had been on the couch. Except this time, the light from the window was fully illuminating every fold of Willow's pussy. Cordy got down on her knees and used her thumbs to spread it wide.

Willow gave a whimper of concern, eyebrows rising at the inner corners in a plaintive expression. She was fully exposed and although there were blinds across the window, one flick could open them and then she'd be laid bare before the whole school. She could hear other pupils shouting and laughing not six feet from her. She gave Cordy a pleading look.

The cheerleader had found what she was looking for. She stared in rapt wonderment at the snippet of pink barrier she could just glimpse beyond Willow's tight walls. For a moment, her bottom lip trembled and she looked as if she were about to cry, then she pressed her lips to the girl's pussy.

Willow cried out then immediately slapped a hand across her own mouth. She stayed like that for several seconds, pressing everything in as her worried eyes roamed over the blinds, searching for gaps. Then she let go as delicious new sensations washed over her.

This – this was what she had always been curious about. She knew what fingers felt like – and orgasm, too – but she'd never quite been able to conjure up what the sensation of having her pussy licked would be like. Of course, she'd always imagined the first to do this to her would be Xander, his large, dark head forcing her thighs apart. But, hey, it wasn't all that different now, Cordy almost a female version of Xander physically – dark hair, dark eyes, statuesque frame. Willow was most surprised by the incredible sweetness of the experience. There was no better word for it – sweeeet! As Cordy's tongue caressed her, probing and circling, her lips topping it all with languorous kisses, Willow put her head back, feeling her nipples spring to life, straining blindly. She pictured herself sitting there with her legs wide apart, dressed now only in her flimsy floral skirt, Cordelia Chase's tongue lapping at her pussy. Her excitement shifted up a gear.

The stimulation changed. Something new was happening – something so intense, she could feel her peak rushing to meet her right there and then. A quick glance down and the sight of Cordy's generous lips fixed on her clitoris and sucking it – she hadn't even known such a thing was possible! – _sucking_ it, sent her over the edge. Her poor, skinny legs quivered and her cries were like those of the dying as her little gushing pussy jerked its ecstasy against Cordy's mouth.

The cheerleader sat back looking smug and licked her wet mouth lasciviously. "That was sweet!" she said.

"Oh," remarked Willow when she'd recovered. "I was just thinking the same thing!"

Cordy stood up with a sigh and ran appreciative fingers across Will's flushed chest and hard nipples, then she was wandering off again. She clearly had something up her sleeve, though – she wagged her ass from side to side as she walked and when she got back to the couch, she pulled off her white Angora sweater and tossed it to one side like a burlesque dancer. "Oh, poor Mr Trophy," she said in her bitchy-baby voice as she picked up Principal Snyder's Perspex award, "it looks like no-one loves you. Well, I still do." She placed her pout upon it and gave it a smacking kiss then, without preamble, one foot went up on the couch and she held Willow's gaze as she pushed the head of the figurine inside. It hurt her and she cried out, then she adjusted her grip and forced it even further in.

"Oh my God!" said Willow, and she jumped off the desk and ran to Cordy. Immediately, the brunette grabbed her and dragged her down so they were both squatting on the floor together. Cordy's knees were wide apart, her pussy very much on show. Holding onto Willow's shoulder with one hand, she pinned the base of the trophy to the floor with the other. "I'm gonna try and get it all the way in," she gasped.

"Does it hurt?" said Willow, concerned.

"Oh yeah," said Cordy.

"Does it feel good, too?" said Willow, beginning to understand.

In answer, Cordy gritted her teeth and pushed down with her hips. The trophy's shoulders disappeared. Her expression was still agonised, though.

"Lubrication," said the redhead. "You need more lubrication."

"Help me."

Instinctively, Willow spat into her hand. Then she flicked a quick, worried glance at Cordy's face, checking she wasn't grossed out.

The bigger girl had other things on her mind. Her eyes were glazed, staring past Willow's shoulder at nothing; tiny kittenish sounds were escaping her throat. She gasped to herself, "'Struggle to accommodate'. Don't you love that phrase? 'Struggle to accommodate.'"

Willow lathered the trophy and Cordy pushed herself down upon it, inch by straining inch, until she was fully impaled. Her pussy lips met the redhead's fingers in the process, wetting them. Willow raised her fingers to her face in wonder then ran them across her lips. Her first ever taste of another woman's pussy juice. Sharpness – salt – a musky aftertaste that lingered on the palate…

Cordy's fingers were digging into Willow's shoulder and pulling at her. "Hold me!" she cried.

The girl obediently scooted round the back so she was between Cordy and the couch. Her arms around the brunette's waist meant Cordy could move as dynamically as she wished without fear her wobbling legs would give way underneath her – Willow had her.

Cordy began the rhythm that worked for her. She alternated between full length penetrations that made her cry out as if she were being assaulted and rapid jerks like machine-gun fire with only the head of the trophy jabbing at her entrance.

Willow's free hand began to explore Cordy's breasts, pulling down the cups of her push-up bra so her nipples peeked out over the edge. She began to mould the generous flesh as it quivered against her palm, her hand 'struggling to accommodate' all the curvy girl had to offer. Cordy's nipples stood out hard – brown and teat-like. Willow pinched one and rolled it, hearing a new, voluptuous sound in the stricken girl's throat. Gee, Cordelia was loud! Just as she was about to whisper a word of caution, Cordy turned her head over her left shoulder, her lips anxiously seeking out Willow's. They kissed, luxuriating in sensation. Sometimes, both mouths moved in rhythm – sometimes, Cordy just held her open, moaning mouth in place while Willow sucked on her lips, plundered her mouth with her tongue.

The innocent little redhead was now lost in World of Cordy. There were Cordy's sounds – the moans , the whimpers, the harsh whispers of, "Fuck me. Oh yeah, fuck me!"; Cordy's flesh – full lips, full breasts, her round ass wedged against Willow's crotch, her powerful thighs quaking as a slim hand now ran down the outside and up the inside of them; Cordy's scents – fresh perspiration bleeding through the lingering perfume of expensive soap; waves of floral shampoo and hairspray as long brown hair fell like a waterfall across her face; the musk of her pussy growing stronger and stronger…

Willow reached between Cordy's thighs and felt for the place of impalement. Her fingers dabble around her pussy lips, gathering moisture, then she found the tip of the girl's clit and rubbed the juice into it. The hard, pink nodule pushed against her as demandingly as a swollen penis. The redhead wondered how in the world some men claimed to have trouble finding it (or so she'd read). Did their eyes/fingers/lips not work properly? Slowly at first, she worked her fingers around the circumference of Cordy's clit, feeling the dark-haired girl halt her manic rhythm for a moment to focus on the sensuous strokes that were setting everything on fire. Then Willow began passing two fingers lightly but rapidly over it – the method she liked best and she was hoping it would work for Cordy, too. As the cheerleader began to bounce on the big fake cock again, her cries rising steadily in pitch, Willow realised it was the right move. She could feel the flesh of Cordy's soft breasts squishing against her lower left arm with each jab downwards. Cordy's head went forwards as she tried to get a look at the damage the glittering prize was doing – the stretched flesh, the juice pooling on the floor beneath them – baring her neck as she did so. Willow moved in immediately, licking her with long strokes over and over like some kind of dog. She found herself whispering goads in the brunette's ear. "Just think, Cordelia, anyone could walk in right now."

"Uh-huh."

"See your dirty pussy getting pounded. See your titties sticking out. See you being a _lesbian_."

Cordy imagined, a smile developing around bared teeth, her hips pumping nastily for show.

"Imagine Principal Snyder walking in right now."

"Ew!"

"Er – imagine Buffy walking in."

"O-_kay_."

"Imagine Giles walking in. How shocked his uptight English sensibilities would be."

"Yeah. Then he'd get down on his belly and lick my clit 'til I come!"

"What?"

"Nngrrhhh!" Her hips went into overdrive, vibrating herself on the Perspex trophy until she came with four extrovert shudders that challenged Willow's ability to hold on. As she came down, she leant back and let the slight redhead take her weight.

Willow's ecstasy was undiminished. She ran her open mouth along Cordy's shoulder and neck; ran her hands all over her body with strong, sweeping strokes.

"Ah!" sighed the cheerleader a little forcedly. Then she tossed the trophy-dildo to one side, disengaged Willow's arms and got up. Briskly, she began to get dressed, pulling down her skirt and slipping her breasts back inside her bra. "Now, where's my sweater?" she said.

Willow made haste to pull down her own skirt. She looked up at the dominant girl with nervous eyes, her face an unwitting Pierrot. "Is – everything okay, Cordelia?"

"Sure." She'd found the fluffy white sweater and was pulling it on, flicking out the long, dark hair that got trapped in the neckhole as she did so.

Colour crept into Willow's cheeks. She got up from the floor. "You're not ashamed, are you?" She was unaware that, as she said this, she subconsciously wrapped her own arms across her chest to hide her bare breasts.

Cordy shot her a dark glance that was almost malevolent. "_I'm_ never ashamed of _any_thing." She walked over to the desk. "Come on, get dressed. Snyder could come in at any moment."

Head hanging low, Willow sought out her own clothes, pulling them back on with a heavy heart. No matter what the other girl said, she was now convinced Cordy regretted what she had just done. Willow had been too raw, perhaps, or too inexperienced. Perhaps she had been too gay, not bisexy enough for Cordy. And now, despite the fact she was fighting like a slayer to prevent it, tears were welling in her eyes. A final humiliation. She went up to the desk and stood to Cordy's right, her head still low, her hands crossed behind her back as they waited for the Principal.

The other students were back inside for afternoon class now and the roar outside had ceased, the silence contributing to the awkwardness she felt lay between them.

"Oh," said Cordy suddenly, "and you should seduce Xander."

"What? Everyone knows, Cordelia, Xander doesn't want me. He wants Buffy. Or you."

Cordy rolled her eyes. "I didn't say you should make him your boyfriend. I said you should seduce him. Get him to take care of your silly little downstairs problem."

"I – I – wouldn't know how to do that." _And there's so much I've still not done with you. Don't say it's over yet, don't try to palm me off on someone else…_

Cordy was on a roll. She spread her hands before her as if about to play an invisible piano. "Next time you're both trapped somewhere with a demon after you, you should throw yourself into his manly arms. Then suddenly, oops! you're overwhelmed by his manly scent, you don't know what you're doing, you're slipping your hand inside his manly pants –"

"I think the last thing we'd be thinking about in that situation is sex."

"Oh yes, you would." Cordy rounded on her, hands on hips. "I've read about it in fanfiction. It's called the 'fuck or die' trope."

Willow's owl face still looked doubtful.

"Hang on – I got it! I know exactly what you should say. Get him alone and make a confession – 'I think I might be gay.' You don't mention me, of course." Her bitchy tone returned and she pointed at Willow warningly.

"What if he freaks out?"

"Willow – he'll _melt_."

She lifted her chin defiantly. "Still, I don't think I'd be comfortable using my sexual orientation so manipulatively."

"Oh, please. Women have been doing it since time immemorial."

"But I wouldn't want to let the team down."

Cordy sighed as if she were trying to toilet train a kitten. Unsuccessfully. "Sweetie! It doesn't matter what you say in public. You'll still have this." She ran a hand down the slender girl's arm and looked into her eyes tenderly for the first time since they'd made out.

Despite herself, Willow smiled back. She knew she could never operate like Cordy, hiding that part of herself then letting it slip at judicious moments. Self-aggrandising moments. Willow wanted the world to accept her – or not accept her – as she really was. She was sure it was far more common to be the way Cordy was than anyone really suspected. But it wasn't the road for her.

"And if saying you might be gay doesn't work on Xander, you could always show him that cute pussy of yours. It worked on me."

They held each other's sweet brown gazes. Then Willow said, "You really think my pussy is cute?"

Cordy narrowed her eyes. "It's the swee –"

Principal Snyder burst through the door. He threw the pair of them a disgusted glance as he crossed the room to stand behind the desk. "So – I hear Buffy's little gang is up to some new mischief," was his opening gambit.

Cordy snorted.

"Cat-fighting is it now?"

Willow's shoulders began to go. Cordy hung her head, biting hard on her lower lip to keep the laughter in. It wasn't working. She was going red in the face and when she heard Willow produce an extraordinary noise somewhere between an elephant's trumpet and a sneeze, she lost control completely.

Principal Snyder stared as the two girls bent double giggling, tears pouring down their cheeks. "I was about to give you a stern reprimand –" he said.

"Ooh!" squeaked Willow, emboldened by their private joke.

"- but my heart's gone out of it. You're both just so _weird_." He sat down at his desk and after a moment of looking for his stationery – why on earth were all his things scattered on the floor? – he wrote something in his diary and barked, "Detention for one week and I'll be sending a letter to both sets of parents."

Cordy and Willow nodded, shoulders still shaking.

"GET OUT!"

They scurried for the door but just as Cordy entered the hall, she felt Willow's fingers lock onto her upper arm with an iron grip. The anxious redhead was looking over her own shoulder. As the door closed behind them, she hissed at her lover, "Oh my God, oh my God, we totally forgot! The trophy!"

For a moment, Cordy looked equally shocked then an explosive laugh burst out of her and she slapped her thigh. Her nose wrinkle in an adorable way Willow had never seen before.

"Cordelia – it's not a laughing matter!" She was wringing her hands.

"Just imagine when he picks it up – 'Why is it all sticky?'" She was helpless.

"He'll know what we've been doing. We could get expelled!"

"Don't be so melodramatic." She hooked her arm through her friend's and led her off down the hall. "This is another thing you have to learn about men. Snyder might _fantasize_ that's what went on – " she shook her head momentarily " - horrible thought – but he won't really _believe_ that's what went on. He'll explain it away as demon slime or something."

"Your pussy doesn't make demon slime," said Willow with charming feigned naïveté.

Cordy tipped her head to one side, smile broad, eyelashes fluttering. "Why, thank you, Miss Rosenberg!" And she led the lovely redhead back to class.


End file.
